


Tongue Tied

by nuspock



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-03
Updated: 2012-09-03
Packaged: 2017-11-13 12:01:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/503341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nuspock/pseuds/nuspock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A filler for fic for 2x06: Harvey fixes Mike's tie in the limo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tongue Tied

“Here, how is it?”

Not good, judging by the way Harvey's rolling his eyes. Mike lets out an indignant huff and undoes the mess of his bowtie, determined to get it right this time. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Harvey watching him with a combination of amusement and pity. Well, excuse him for not being Harvey Specter, Harvey perfect Specter, Harvey dapper Specter with his crisp tailored suits and perfectly coiffed hair. Not everyone can whip a tux out of their pocket at a moment’s notice, especially not a broke ex-pothead like Mike. Not everyone can just show up at the door of his apartment looking like a fucking wet dream with his trim waist and perfect jawline and –

Perhaps it’s lucky that Harvey cuts in before that train of thought veers off too far into the danger zone: “How do you even dress yourself in the morning?”

Mike opens his mouth to make a witty comeback, but then every intelligent thought flies out of his head, because Harvey’s leaned across the limo and started fixing the tie himself, and Mike’s pretty sure he’s forgotten how to breathe because Harvey’s face is _so damn close_ , the aforementioned jawline on glorious display, just begging to be licked. In some distant part of Mike’s brain, he knows Harvey’s talking to him, probably making more snide comments about Mike’s fashion sense, but he doesn’t hear a word. He’s too focused on the suffocating heat radiating from Harvey’s body, the feel of his slow, even breaths ghosting across Mike’s skin, his fingers nimbly tying a perfect knot, and _wow_ Mike needs to stop thinking about what else those fingers could be doing or this is going to get really awkward really fast. He begins mentally reciting the digits of pi at top speed in a vain attempt to control his pulse.

Finally, fucking _finally_ , after what feels like hours, Harvey’s done. Mike lets out a faint sigh of relief as Harvey begins to pull back, but it quickly turns into a choked-off gasp as Harvey’s fingers accidentally brush against his throat. For the first time since this whole ordeal started, Harvey looks up at Mike’s face. Their eyes meet, and for a second Mike imagines that there’s something like heat in Harvey’s gaze. But then the limo pulls up to the curb, and the moment is broken. Harvey opens the door and smoothly exits the car, leaving Mike alone in the backseat with a dazed expression on his face. It takes him a second to realize that his mouth is hanging open, his jaw practically on the floor of the limo. He shuts it quickly and runs a hand over his face, trying to regain something resembling composure before opening his own door and following Harvey into the casino.

It was a small moment, one of hundreds, and Mike doubts that Harvey will even remember it the next day. Hell, he’d be surprised if Harvey even noticed how flustered and uncomfortable Mike had been. Still, the lingering heat of Harvey’s fingers on his neck and the dark intent he thought he’d seen in Harvey’s eyes are memories that will stick with Mike for years to come.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been five years, and a lot has changed. Jessica’s moved onto even bigger and better things, leaving Pearson & Hardman in Harvey’s capable hands. Mike’s moved up through the ranks to become the youngest senior partner in the firm’s history, and is widely known as the most talented closer in New York (other than Harvey, of course). Most importantly (and sometimes Mike still wakes up and pinches himself to make sure it actually happened), he and Harvey have gotten their heads out of their respective asses and let their long-repressed feelings come to light. They’ve been together for just over a year now, and Mike’s never been happier.

One thing that hasn’t changed is Mike’s inability to correctly tie a bowtie.

“Mike, hurry up! The charity benefit starts in ten minutes!”

“Yeah, yeah, almost ready!” Mike calls from the bathroom, trying with limited success to undo the tangled knot he’s managed to make of his second-best bowtie. He hears Harvey step into the bathroom behind him and glances up to meet his eyes through the mirror (he's looking as perfect as always, the fucker), just in time to see Harvey roll his eyes.

“Here, let me.”

Mike sighs and gives in, letting Harvey undo the mess he’s made. Harvey works in comfortable silence for a few seconds before looking up to meet Mike’s eyes, flashing his signature half-smile. “Brings back memories, huh?”

Mike’s breath catches in his throat, and his eyes go as wide as they’d been on that night five years ago. “You – you remember?” he stutters. “You noticed?”

Harvey snorts and steps back, admiring his handiwork. “I’m pretty sure everyone in the casino noticed. Dress pants don’t do a good job of concealing boners, you know.”

“What?!” Mike chokes out indignantly. “Harvey, I did not have a boner!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Harvey says over his shoulder as he exits the hotel room. “Keep telling yourself that, kid.”

Mike trails after him, grumbling under his breath. The smug bastard. Let’s see who’s laughing later tonight when Harvey’s begging him to be fucked.


End file.
